Stonewall Secondary
by iyfanatic
Summary: [AU of Sixth Year, DMHP] Harry is notified that Hogwarts is closing down, leaving him with Stonewall Secondary as the only option left. As if being part of the Muggle schooling system again isn't enough, now he must mentor Purebloods as well?
1. Chapter 1

IY: Finally! I am **back** into **civilization**! -stretches-

Kit: Yeah, if you call a rest area at 3:52 in the morning civilization.

IY: As a matter of fact, I do! At least I get to see **other people** (even if they're all _sleeping_), unlike for the past month...

But, anyway! -shakes head- This is a new fic, obviously. I hope you guys enjoy!

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**Summary:** AU of Sixth Year (Can't wait for Book 7 to come out, by the way!) Harry is told that Hogwarts is closing, and that he must attend Stonewall Secondary- the school he would've attended if he hadn't been accepted into Hogwarts in the first place. However, that isn't the worst of his problems... 

**Warning:** (Although I don't think I should have to do this, since it was on the fic summary...) Slash, Yaoi, Shounen Ai, Boy Love, whatever you wanna call it. DMHP

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Stonewall Secondary: Chapter ONE

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"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Petunia, but I wanted to see if I could borrow young Harry for a bit," Mrs. Figg's crackly voice echoed from the entranceway. 

Harry froze where he stood in the kitchen, hands in the soapy water he was using to wash the breakfast dishes.

"Harry? Whatever could you want that juvenile delinquent for, dear?" Petunia's sickly sweet tone made Harry's skin crawl.

"Well, I need to get some boxes down from the attic, and these old bones of mine just aren't up for the task. I have no one left to call on, so I thought I'd pop on over and see if I could ask for some help."

Petunia's high-pitched giggle sounded, "Why, of course we'll help you! We're all like family here in this neighborhood, right? There's no way I could resist a cry for help!"

Harry put down the tea cup he was previously washing and sneaked over to the opening that led out of the kitchen.

"However… Are you sure you want _Harry_? I'm sure I can get Dudley to help you out, dear; it would be much safer. After all, you never know what a deranged teen can do…" Petunia trailed off suggestively.

Harry grit his teeth. _He_ was dangerous? Obviously, Petunia was still oblivious to the fact that her dear Duddeykins was the leader of the local gang…

"Oh, I'm sure we'll be fine, Petunia. He's never been any trouble all the times you left him with me when he was younger," Mrs. Figg answered calmly.

Harry grinned. There wasn't much his aunt could say to that; she'd have to let him go!

"Well, okay then. Let me just go get him," Petunia said, closing the door on the elderly woman.

Harry scrambled away quickly, heading back to the sink. He grabbed the forgotten tea cup and started scrubbing away.

"You, boy! Put that down and come with me. Mrs. Figg wants you to help her with some chores."

Harry nodded obediently, "Yes, Aunt Petunia."

As Harry reached his aunt, who stood in the hallway, right outside the kitchen, she grabbed his arm.

"Now, listen here: I don't want to hear about any funny business, you understand? If Mrs. Figg comes and complains about things blowing up, I will tell Vernon, and you will not like the outcome," she hissed lowly, as to not alert their visitor.

Harry winced as her bony fingers dug into his arm, but nodded. "Okay, Aunt Petunia. I understand."

Petunia sniffed, but allowed him to wrench his arm away. "Go on, boy, what are you waiting for?"

Harry nodded and headed to the door. Opening it, he said, "Hi, Mrs. Figg."

"Harry! How good to see you! How have you been, dear?"

Harry shifted his feet. "Er, fine, ma'am."

"Hmm… Why don't I believe you?" Mrs. Figg said humorously. "Oh well, don't just stand there, dear; let's get going."

Harry nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"So, what do you need me to do, Mrs. Figg?" he asked, pretending to not have eavesdropped.

"Oh, I don't really need you to do anything, dear," she said airily, waving a wrinkled hand. "Dumbledore needs to see you, but he knew that he's not exactly welcomed at the Dursley's."

"Oh," was all Harry could say.

Mrs. Figg smiled, "Don't worry, dear, it's nothing bad. Now, come on, mustn't keep them waiting."

Harry nodded and followed behind her. For an old woman, Arabella Figg sure could walk fast.

"Come on in, Harry," Mrs. Figg said, holding open the door to her home.

He walked in, heading towards the living room automatically. He'd been left here so many times as a child that he knew the house like the back of his hand.

"Ah, Harry. That was fast," was the first thing that reached Harry's ears as he stepped into the room.

His eyes automatically searched for the speaker, finding the old man seated on a love seat in the corner.

"Professor Dumbledore. You wanted to speak with me?" Harry asked politely, still remembering the events of the past school year.

"Ah, yes. I'm afraid I have some rather… unfortunate news, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened behind his trademark round glasses. "What? What is it? Is it about Voldemort? Is everyone okay?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by a familiar drawling voice.

"Why don't you just let the man speak, scar head, instead of interrupting every minute?"

Harry whirled around, finding his arch nemesis standing in the doorway.

"Malfoy! What are _you_ doing here?" he hissed, confused but trying to hide it.

"Well, Harry, that's what I wanted to speak to you about," Dumbledore said, trying to diffuse the impending brawl.

Harry turned his back to the blond, confident that he wouldn't try anything with

Dumbledore in the same room.

"You see, once the ministry finally admitted Voldemort's return, the public went into an

uproar. Hogwarts was flooded with letters from concerned parents, most saying that they wanted to withdraw their children.

"Without students, there is no point to keeping the school open. However, we didn't want all of you to go without an education, so we enrolled you all in Muggle public schools."

Harry gaped, "Really? Is that why Malfoy's here?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I'm afraid that's so. Many of our pureblood students don't know how to live as Muggles, so they will be under the tutelage of a Muggle-born or, as in your case, Muggle-raised student."

"W-wait, wait," Harry sputtered. "You mean to tell me that I'm going to be teaching _purebloods _how to be like _Muggles_?"

Dumbledore beamed, "Correct! You have exactly six weeks, since Stonewall Secondary starts on Tuesday, August 21st, and today is Tuesday, July 10th."

"But I haven't gone to Muggle school since primary! How am I supposed to teach them if I don't know anything myself?" Harry asked, as close a statement to a whine as he allowed himself to make in present company.

"Oh, dear boy, you don't have to help them with their coursework! The four of you will have a private tutor that will help you catch up with your new classmates. All you have to do, Harry, is teach them the basics of living life as a Muggle.

"For instance, our young Malfoy, here, asked me earlier what that curious contraption was," Dumbledore said, pointing to the telephone.

"Living with Muggles, I'm sure you know what it is and what it's used for. I, myself, could not answer, as I'm quite out of the loop on current Muggle technology…" the old man said sheepishly.

Harry whimpered quietly. He had to teach old-fashioned, magic-raised purebloods the wonders of 'current Muggle technology'? A telephone wasn't even considered _current_ anymore!

"How many purebloods will I have to teach?" Harry asked quietly, resigned to his fate. He could only hope that it was a small number…

"Only three, Harry. All students were actually meant to live with their Muggle guide, but seeing as the Dursleys are less than accommodating, we decided to have them live here. Arabella will be out on vacation for a bit, so it's no problem.

"You'll have to come over every day for their lessons, but I'm sure you can manage that. The ideal thing would have been for you to move in as well, but seeing as that's not an option, we'll have to make do," Dumbledore said.

"Uh-huh," Harry said absently, trying to figure out how he could manage this. He could see no possible way of sneaking out. "And what if… What if the Dursleys don't let me out?"

From where Draco was inconspicuously sitting, he could see the way Harry fidgeted with his oversized shirt. Whatever could the Golden Boy be thinking, that had him squirming like a newborn chick and sounding just as innocent?

"Well, don't worry about that, Harry. I've got it all thought out. Here," Dumbledore said, handing Harry a small box. "Open it."

Harry did as told, and immediately gasped. "A time-turner!"

The old man smiled. "Yes, it is, Harry. Am I correct in thinking that you remember how to use it?"

Draco scowled when he heard that. So, the Headmaster knew the Boy Wonder was using an illegal object in the school and hadn't done anything about it? How unfair!

"Of course I remember! How could I forget? We saved Snuffles with one of these!" Harry said, grinning.

Abruptly, he frowned. They had saved Sirius, yes, but only so that Harry could send him to his death two years later…

Draco made a humming noise in the back of his throat. Interesting… Potter could get sad at the drop of a hat… What had been said that caused _that_ reaction?

Dumbledore sighed, "Oh, Harry… You need to let it go eventually. It was _not_ your fault that he died. He chose to go on his own."

Harry turned to look out a window. "Yeah, I know." His voice sounded clogged.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Had Potter caused someone to _die_?

The previous Hogwarts Headmaster shook his head. "I'm sorry boys, but I need to get going. Harry, the other two boys will get here tomorrow. You should start your lessons then."

Harry nodded, still looking out the window.

Dumbledore moved towards the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, and started to step into the roaring green flames.

"Wait!" Harry cried, suddenly hit with the fact that he had no idea who his other two students would be.

"Yes, Harry?" the old man asked.

"Who are the other two boys?"

"Oh, goodness me. It completely slipped my mind that I hadn't told you their names yet. They are both in your year, Harry. One is a fellow Gryffindor: Mister Ronald Weasley."

Harry grinned, "Ron? That's great!" He ignored Malfoy's indignant screech of, "What? I can't live with a _Weasley_!"

Dumbledore smiled, "Yes, I thought you would enjoy having him around for once."

Harry's smile dimmed. That's right; everyone usually abandoned him during the summer.

The Headmaster saw his reaction and hurriedly continued, "Your other charge will be Blaise Zabini, young Mister Malfoy's Slytherin friend."

Harry groaned as Malfoy cheered. Another _Slytherin_?

"Well, I really must be going now. Play nice, boys."

Harry and Draco both watched as Dumbledore disappeared in a swirl of green flames.

Harry turned to the blonde. "Well, I guess I'll be going now…"

The young Malfoy heir nodded stiffly. "Fine, nothing's stopping you."

"Uh, right," Harry said, walking to the front door. Before opening it, he called out, "Bye Mrs. Figg!"

He heard the answering, "Bye dear!" coming from the back sun room, where she kept her prized flowers.

Harry turned to face Draco once more. "See ya, Malfoy. I'll be back around 9 tomorrow."

Draco nodded and watched as the Golden Boy stepped out the door, closing it quietly behind himself.

"Great. What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now?"

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Aaaand... That's a wrap! XD 

Please review, okay? Tell me if you like it; and if you don't, that's fine too!


	2. Chapter 2

IY: Wow, you guys rule! 10 reviews in one day... Amazing...

Kit: Yeah. I mean, you usually get 10 in a month.

IY: Uh-huh. -nod- So, since I'm in **SUCH** a good mood, I'm gonna update again!

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Thanks to: Dezra, death by storm, DrarryLuver, Chelse (Er, I'll try?), Yep.Morgan.It.Is, wonky, Limit (I totally get where you're coming from), storm tigeress, Akkalia, and nubby!

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Oh, and I forgot to include the **disclaimer** last chapter. I bet no one noticed anyway, since it's totally obvious that I don't own anything. I mean, if I was rich like J.K. is right now, I wouldn't waste my time writing _fanfiction._ Enough said.

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Stonewall Secondary: Chapter TWO

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"Wait for it… Wait for it…. Now!" Harry whispered, dashing to the front hall and out the door when Petunia stepped into the kitchen. 

"Whew!" he said, once he was safely outside and down the block- far enough away to be out of Aunt Petunia's peeping range.

"Okay, it is now…" Harry peered at his watch (a Christmas gift from Hermione, spelled to work in magic-laden areas), "9:35. I should turn the time back to nine once I'm done, just to be safe."

Harry nodded to himself and walked briskly down the sidewalk, anxious to see Ron. He might actually have fun this summer with his best friend around! The thought brought a smile to his face, and it was still present even as he rang Mrs. Figg's doorbell.

When he heard a crash from inside, however, the smile quickly slipped right off. The loud noise was followed by, "What the bloody hell was that?! It sounds like there's a bloody bird loose in here!"

Harry cautiously turned the doorknob, finding it unlocked, and slipped inside. Walking into the living room, he was met with a chaotic scene: Draco, Ron and Blaise were running around the room like headless chickens, looking in corners and behind furniture… Harry thought they were acting like loons.

"Er, is this a bad time? I could come back later if you guys are doing some sort of strange pureblood ritual…" he said slowly, unsure of their response. Who knew what crazy people would do next?

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, stopping his frantic search. "What are you talking about, mate? We're not doing any ritual!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? What are they doing, then?" he asked, pointing to the two Slytherins.

"Oh, that! We're looking for a bird; we think maybe he flew in here by accident."

"Ron…" Harry started, "Is this because of the doorbell?" he asked suspiciously.

"The what, now?" Ron asked, confused.

"The doorbell. You know, the thing that rings when you push it?"

Seeing Ron's blank look, Harry sighed and went back to the door. Opening it and leaning out, he pushed the doorbell again.

"There it is again! Where the bloody hell is that bloody bird?!" Draco exploded, his blond head turning left and right.

Harry snorted. "You have _got_ to be kidding me…"

"What's _your_ problem, Gryffindork?" Draco sneered when he heard Harry's derisive comment.

Harry sighed, turned his green eyes up to the heavens, and prayed for patience.

"There _is_ no bird, Malfoy. What you heard is the sound of the _doorbell_, a Muggle contraption that lets visitors announce their presence. The sound is heard throughout the whole house so that you don't accidentally miss them."

"Oh…" Ron said, echoed by Blaise.

"Well, whatever. It's _your_ fault we didn't know that, Boy Blunder. Can't you tell the time?" Draco asked, pointing towards a clock. "It's almost 10; you said you'd be here to start our lessons at 9."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I said _around_ 9, Malfoy. I had to sneak away from my relatives' house, and I couldn't leave earlier because my uncle decided he wanted to be late to the office."

"What office?" Blaise asked curiously.

"The office where he works, maybe?" Harry said sarcastically, making it seem obvious; it would have been, had they been Muggles.

"Uncle Vernon is the supervisor at a drill company called Grunnings," he added, hoping that would clear up their confusion.

"Hey, Harry…"

"Yeah?"

"What's a drill?" Ron asked.

Harry groaned.

* * *

Three hours later, the three purebloods had an elementary knowledge of: 

Electricity ("Where does it come from?" "I don't know; it's just there as long as you pay for it."),

Televisions ("How do all those people fit inside there?" "They're not really there; it's just a recording being broadcast around the world." "…What?" "Never mind."),

Telephones ("How does the sound get carried from here to there?" "Through these wires, see?" "Yeah, but _how _does the noise get carried through it?" "…I have no idea."),

Radios ("Wow! I can hear _people_! Hello in there!" "Er, they're not really in there, so they can't hear you…" "Really?" "Yeah…"),

Microwaves ("Hey, look! It's spinning!" "Yeah, it does that so things get heated evenly." "Um, is it supposed to smoke like that?" "What!"),

Refrigerators ("Wow, it's so cold in here…" "Yeah, that's what they're made for." "Hey, there's caviar in here!" "No! Don't eat that! It's cat food!"),

Stoves ("It's burning!" "Don't worry; it's supposed to do that." "Really? Strange…" "Well, we use it to cook our meals." "You make your own food?!"),

Washing machines ("Watch out! It's moving!" "Ah. Yeah… It's washing the clothes…" "Huh."),

Dryers ("Wow… Look at all the colors…" "Well, now we know how to keep you entertained…"),

And, finally, the computers that were set up in each of their rooms ("Why is it blinking like that?" "That just shows that it's on, but in standby mode." "…Huh?" "Uh, never mind. Just move this mouse-" "It doesn't _look_ like a mouse…" "It's just called that. It's not a _real_ mouse." "Then why do they call it a mouse?").

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Harry plopped exhaustedly on the couch. "Man, my throat hurts…" 

Ron groaned, "I'm hungry…"

Blaise moaned, "Where are the house elves when you need them?"

Draco scoffed, "At home, where they're of no use to anyone."

Harry looked around at the others' sprawled forms. "So, I guess we're all hungry?"

"No, really? Brilliant deduction, Gryffindork," Draco sneered.

"Don't get nasty, Malfoy, or I won't make any food for you!" Harry threatened.

"_You_ are going to make our food?" Blaise asked. "I thought you were pampered beyond belief, being the Boy-Who-Lived and all… How could _you _possibly know how to cook?"

Harry snorted, "Me? _Pampered_? You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, come off it, Potter! I bet you've never had to raise a finger in your life!" Draco cried.

"I don't think you should be talking, Mr. I-am-a-rich-spoiled-pureblood!" Harry said, walking into the kitchen with Ron.

"He's got you there, Drake," Blaise said, following behind the green-eyed Gryffindor and the Weasley.

Draco scoffed, but followed reluctantly behind. Even something prepared by a Gryffindor was better than nothing.

* * *

"Okay, so…" Harry said, opening the fridge. "It looks like Mrs. Figg stocked up on food before she left; we won't have to go grocery shopping until the end of the week, at least." 

"How are we going to buy stuff, Harry? We don't have any Muggle money."

Harry frowned, "Good point, Ron. I guess we'll have to go to Diagon Alley… We can probably get some galleons converted to pounds…"

"But what about…" Ron glanced at the two Slytherins, "What about the Order?"

He frowned, "What about them? I'm sure they're watching our every move; they'll know when we're going and send someone to tail us."

Ron nodded, accepting this. Draco and Blaise, however, looked uneasy.

"What do you mean, Potter? There's someone watching us?" Blaise asked, visually searching the kitchen for unwanted visitors.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Zabini. They're outside the house, and they'll leave once I do. It's _me_ they have under constant surveillance, not you," he finished bitterly.

Draco looked at him appraisingly, "And _why _do they have you under guard?"

Harry sighed, "Dumbledore thinks that I'll either do something stupid or be attacked by Voldemort any minute."

"He's been under watch for a long time now, " Ron added.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, but that's not important. Food is our top priority right now."

He rooted through the fridge, coming out with a package of fish, two eggs, lettuce and tomatoes. He then went through the cupboards until he came across packages of potatoes and flour.

"Uh, mate?"

"Yeah?" he answered, filling a bowl with the eggs and another with flour.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, sounding confused.

"Fish and chips with a side of salad. Easy and fast."

"Huh."

* * *

Half an hour later, they were all seated around the small kitchen table, eating with gusto. 

"You know, this isn't half bad…" Blaise said thoughtfully.

"Gee, thanks," Harry said dryly.

"He's right, mate. This is as good as my mum's!" Ron cried.

They all turned towards the silent blond.

"I've had better." Harry rolled his eyes. "But," everyone turned back to him, "I've also had worse."

Harry gasped dramatically, "Have I just been semi-complimented by Draco Malfoy? _No_! The world is ending! I'm too young to die!"

The young Malfoy rolled his mercury-colored eyes. "Shut up, Gryffindork."

Harry grinned.

* * *

When they had all finished, Harry shooed them out of the kitchen. "Go watch some television or something while I wash these dishes." 

Draco and Blaise followed the order quickly, not wanting to chance being asked to help if they stayed.

"Go, Ron! Get out of here; you're only bothering me by staying." Ron pouted, but did as told.

Harry sighed, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. One by one, the dishes were scrubbed clean, disappearing from the dirty pile and appearing in the dish rack.

"You're pretty good at that, Potter. Are you used to that kind of menial labor?"

The green-eyed Gryffindor jumped, "Malfoy! Don't sneak up on me!"

"I wasn't _sneaking_. It's not _my _fault that you're so unobservant that you didn't notice me, even though I've been standing here for quite a while," the blond drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"I'm parched, Potter; I want some water. Where do I get it?"

"You've got quite a way with words, Malfoy," Harry said, smirking. Parched? Who said that, nowadays?

"Stop mocking my superior vocabulary, Potter, and give me some water," Draco demanded.

"Get it yourself, Malfoy."

"I thought we went over this, but I guess your slow mind didn't quite catch it: where do I get it, Potter?"

Harry smirked; he loved seeing Draco so helpless. "Get one of the cups from the cupboards, Malfoy."

The blond sighed and did as told. "Now what, Boy Blunder?"

"Now go to the fridge," Harry said, not continuing until Draco followed his instructions. "Okay, now put the cup in that hole, pushing against that black lever."

Draco gasped when water instantly poured into the glass. "Well, I guess Muggles aren't as stupid as I thought. They've managed to design things that make up for their lack of magic…"

Harry smiled, "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy didn't completely bash people that weren't born purebloods."

"Whatever, Potter." Draco said, sipping his water. "You didn't answer me earlier."

"Didn't answer what?" Harry asked, turning back to the rapidly diminishing pile of dishes.

"Are you used to menial labor?"

Harry laughed, "I've been doing household chores since… Since as far back as I can remember… I've cooked all the meals for the Dursleys ever since I could reach the top of the stove; I've washed the dishes since Aunt Petunia decided that I could handle her china without breaking it; I've swept and dusted ever since I could walk without tripping over Dudley's old clothes…"

Harry smile turned bitter, "So, yeah, I'm very used to menial labor. Why do you ask, Malfoy?"

Draco was stunned at Harry's revelations. The Boy-Who-Lived, a slave to his own family? Preposterous. Unthinkable. But true…? It certainly seemed that way…

Draco shook his head, slightly out of it. "Oh, no reason, Potter. Uh, I'll just be going now, okay?"

Harry's vivid green eyes followed the blond out of the kitchen. "Malfoy can be _so_ weird sometimes…"

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Aaaand... Cut! I hope you all liked chapter two! 

Okay, now, you know the drill! Review, please! Who knows, if I get enough, I might update again... (wink, wink)


	3. Chapter 3

IY: I love you guys! -blows kisses- 20 reviews for ONE chapter... I am _astounded._ I don't have 20 reviews for HBD yet, and it's been around for MUCH longer...

Kit: Well, maybe that should tell you something...

IY: Hey! That's one of the stories I like the most, out of the grand total of 18 that I've written.

Kit: And whoever said you had good taste?

IY: -growl- I do too have good taste!

But, anyway! -smile- You guys deserve another chapter for the many reviews you've sent in. Hey, maybe I should up the review quota for each chapter? What do you guys think of that? Is that fair?

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THANKS TO: **MidnightSuburbia** (I got your review for chapter 1 after I had posted 2, so I'm sorry I didn't mention you. Thanks for reviewing again, though! They made me giggle.), **ThatGirl7858**, **Caldonva**, **death by storm**, **storm tigeress**, **Katsy16**, **Dezra**, **Akkalia** (The time-turner will be explained a bit later, but no. He'll stop when school starts.), **sakikaiba**, **wonky** (Yeah, I made myself laugh while I wrote those... I am so lame...), **Star**, **nubby**, **digi-writer1392**, **red eyed dragon**, **Slasherific** (Thank you for adding me so soon, then!), **-x-Bashli-x-** (No, this will not be BZRW. I was thinking maybe BZSF and RWHG. Would that be okay? I could always make it no pairings, if not.), **Darkspider**, **Limit** (Well, that's good, 'cause I'm not above accepting bribery... And no, I don't, but if you find any, send me a link, please? I'd like to steer away from overused plots... For once. XD), **kateg123**

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**Disclaimer**: I disclaim. XD

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Stonewall Secondary: Chapter THREE

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"So, uh, should we go to Diagon Alley today?" Ron asked, opening the refrigerator only to find it empty. 

It seemed that four teenage boys ate _a lot_… Instead of the estimated week, they'd run through all the food in three days.

Harry peeked over Ron's shoulder - quite a feat, seeing as Ron was almost a foot taller than him, now - and felt a dumbfounded look plaster itself on his face.

"Wow," was all he could say, after several seconds of stunned silence. "I guess we have to go, unless we want to starve…"

"Have to go where?" Blaise asked, stepping into the kitchen, yawning widely.

"You're barely getting up?" Harry replied, looking towards the digital watch integrated in the stove, "It's almost nine…"

"So? You have a problem with that, Potter?" Draco drawled, sauntering into the room while still clad in his pajamas.

"Er, no… Just asking." Harry said, trying to evade yet another verbal match.

"Hmm, that's what I thought."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, whatever, Malfoy. We have to go to Diagon Alley today; we need money so that we can go grocery shopping."

"I thought we were all set until the end of the week?" Blaise asked, confused.

"Well, it kind of _is_ the end of the week; it's Friday…" Ron replied.

Harry laughed, "Yeah, but I was hoping that the food would last until at least Sunday…"

"Okay, fine," Draco interrupted, "Let's just go already."

Green eyes looked him over. "Are you planning on going in your pajamas, Malfoy?"

"No! Of course not, you twit." Draco scoffed haughtily, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

"Uh-huh," Harry said, lips twitching. "Well, you just go change, Malfoy, while I go tell the Order."

Draco didn't dignify that with an answer; he just turned and walked out of the room.

Harry laughed, watching his departure. He turned to the other two, "Well, you guys should go get ready, too."

Blaise shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. I'll go wait in the living room."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, me, too. I wouldn't _dream_ of walking around in my pajamas; you know how ugly they are, Harry."

He snorted, "Yeah, I know."

Ron scowled playfully, "You're not supposed to agree, mate!"

Harry shook his head, grinning. "Fine, how's this? Ron, your pajamas aren't ugly; they're the most beautiful pieces of clothing I've ever seen!"

"You really _are_ deprived, then," Draco said, walking down the stairs, "If you think a _Weasley's _clothes are beautiful."

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy!" Harry said, frowning. "Go wait in the living room with Blaise."

Ron and Harry watched as Draco shrugged and did as told.

"I never thought I'd see the day when _Malfoy_ followed orders- without complaining, even!" Ron said, surprised.

Harry shrugged, "He must still be in shock over having to live like a Muggle. I'm sure he'll snap out of it soon enough."

Ron sighed, "I hope not _too_ soon."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, I do, too."

Ron shook his head, "You better go talk to the Order, Harry. We need to get going."

The green-eyed teen nodded, "You're right. Go wait in the living room with the others, Ron; I'll be back soon."

Ron nodded and walked away, Harry heading the opposite way to the door. Opening it, he stepped out.

"Hey, Order? We're going to Diagon Alley; we need to get some money. Um, I just thought you'd want to know…" Harry felt a bit silly, talking to midair.

"That's fine, Harry," came a muffled voice from nearby. "Go ahead."

"Er, okay. Thanks…?" Harry shook his head, opening the door and walking back inside.

_That_ was certainly a strange experience to remember…

Joining the others in the living room, he said, "Okay, it's a go. We're all set."

Draco's mercury-colored eyes pointed to the ceiling. "Finally! Let's go already!"

Blaise sighed, "You're always so impatient, Drake…"

"Shut up, Blaise, and get your ass up."

The brunette Slytherin sighed again, lethargically sat up from the chaise he'd been reclining on, and stood.

"Okay… If we're all ready, let's go," Harry said, grabbing a pinch of Floo Powder and throwing it in the fireplace. Green flames instantly sprung up, and he stepped into them. "Diagon Alley!"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Who died and made _him_ leader?"

Blaise shrugged, watching as Ron spun away as well. "The Dark Lord disappeared for a while… Does that count?"

Draco sighed, "It was a rhetorical question, Blaise, and you know it."

Blaise laughed, "Yeah, but it's fun to rile you up." He threw his pinch of Floo Powder, stepping in and crying out, "Diagon Alley!"

Draco scowled, "Why am _I_ last?"

* * *

"Uh, hello. Um, I want to change some of my money into Muggle currency… Is that possible?" Harry asked, shrinking slightly under the goblin teller's piercing gaze. 

"Yes. It is possible. Key?"

"Er, uh, hold on…" Harry dug into the big pockets of Dudley's old jeans.

Draco scoffed, "Here. I want to change some, too." He handed the goblin his own key, which opened the door to his private vault.

The goblin inserted the key into a small box, then read the parchment that spilled out. "How much would you like, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't know. What's the exchange rate?" the blond asked.

"Five pounds sterling per galleon," the goblin replied monotonously.

"What the hell is a _pound_?" Draco muttered, confused. "Oh, whatever, give me whatever a hundred galleons converts to."

Harry gasped, "That's five hundred pounds…" (As of May 07, one pound is equivalent to 1.99 USD, so… about $995.)

Blaise shrugged, pulling out his own key. "Give me the same."

Harry considered… He had a lot of money in his own account, most of which he'd never touched… If he exchanged it, then he could finally buy the things he'd always wanted and been denied…

Harry waited until the other two had each received small, magical bags (designed to expand to fit its contents) full of their money, then moved in front of the teller's desk.

"Er, here's my key…" he said, handing it to the goblin. He waited until the goblin had received the piece of parchment before asking, "Er, could you tell me how much I have?"

The goblin looked at him over his small glasses, "Of course, Mr. Potter. However, I think you should speak with our manager first."

Harry frowned. "Uh, sure…"

The goblin nodded, then called out, "Griphook!"

Draco laughed, "What did you do, Potter? Steal something?"

Harry scowled at blond, "No, you twit!"

Another goblin came scurrying up to them at that moment. "Yes?" he said.

The goblin teller looked at him, saying, "Griphook, take Mr. Potter - and his friends, if he wishes - to Mr. Goldcain."

The new arrival nodded. "Certainly, sir. Mr. Potter, please come this way," he said, leading them away from the usual path to the vaults.

"Oh, okay…" Harry said, slightly hesitant. "Say, um, Griphook… Are you the one who lead me to my safe about five years ago?"

Griphook looked like someone had hit him with a mallet. "You remember me, sir? No one ever remembers lowly goblins like me…"

"Er, yeah, I do…" Harry said, uncomfortable with the adoring gaze Griphook was directing at him. It strongly reminded him of the house elf, Dobby…

"Uh, Harry? What's going on?" Ron broke in, sounding mystified.

The green-eyed teen turned to him. "I have no idea, Ron."

Draco and Blaise, who had remained silent up till then, snorted simultaneously.

"Goldcain is the head goblin; he runs the bank," Blaise said, deciding to clue them in.

"It's not surprising that the two of _you_ don't know who he is… You probably don't have enough money to earn you the attention of important people…" Draco drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Griphook, are we almost there?"

The small goblin accompanying them nodded eagerly. "It's those doors right there," he said, pointing towards the end of the hallway.

"Whoa…" Ron said, tilting his head to see the top. "Those are some big doors…"

Harry nodded, "Yeah…"

Draco scoffed, "We've ended up in the company of plebeians… How did we sink so low, Blaise?"

The brunette Slytherin laughed. "We were put here by Dumbledore, remember?"

Draco smiled, "Oh, right. It's all that old kook's fault."

Harry shook his head. Honestly… Malfoy wasn't in peace unless he was insulting somebody…

Griphook reached the massive doors first. He pushed one open and used some handy magic to keep it open until they had all passed through.

"Mr. Goldcain, sir, I've brought Mr. Harry Potter and his friends."

"Ah, good, good. You may go now."

Harry looked at the older goblin. He seemed rather shrewd. Harry was sure that no one had ever gotten away with lying to him.

"Er, I was told to speak with you?" Harry said tentatively.

"Yes, I've been meaning to speak with you, Mr. Potter. But, please, have a seat before we start," Goldcain said, waving towards the chairs set up in front of his desk.

"Er, right. Okay." Harry sat down in a plush velvet chair; it was overly soft, causing him to sink into it.

He noticed that Ron and the two Slytherins also looked uncomfortable sitting on furniture that seemed to want to eat them alive. Maybe it was an intimidation tactic?

His attention was drawn back to Goldcain when he cleared his throat. "Mr. Potter, I've been expecting you for quite a while now. I was severely disappointed when you didn't show up at our meeting."

Harry frowned, confused. "What meeting?"

The goblin looked surprised. "Did you not receive our letter? We sent it with one of our very reliable owls."

Harry shook his head. "No, I haven't received any mail this summer."

Goldcain nodded. "Well, I have a copy here; it is kept for reference, you see. I could show it to you if you would like to see it."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, that would be great."

Goldcain snapped his fingers, causing a file to appear on the desk. He opened it and took out the single sheet of parchment it contained. Wordlessly, he handed it over.

Harry took it and began to read:

_Dear Mr. Potter:_

_We, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, were very grieved to learn of the passing of Mister Sirius Black, last of the prestigious Black family. We are honored to be able to carry out one of his last wishes: the distribution of his property as stated in his will._

_Mr. Black has left everything to Mr. Harry Potter, godson. This consists of two landed estates: Grimmauld's Place, in London, and a small summer home in Scotland; his flying motorcycle; several well-placed stocks and bonds; and a total of 12, 379 galleons, 5, 408 sickles, and 306 knuts. Mr. Black has asked that Mr. Potter consider sharing this money with Mr. Remus Lupin, friend and werewolf._

_We would like to request a meeting to discuss your options, Mr. Potter. Please come to Gringotts on the date of June 6th. You will be shown to Mr. Goldcain's office; he is the head of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, London._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Tattlehorn, Gringotts teller_

Harry looked up, eyes foggy and throat sore. "So, Sirius left me all his stuff?"

"That is correct, Mr. Potter," Goldcain said, respectfully looking away as Harry dried his eyes.

"Well, I don't want it," Harry said, standing up.

"Harry!" Ron cried, "If you don't take it, who will?"

"The inheritance goes to the nearest family member," Goldcain answered. "As Mr. Black had no children, it would be divided between Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange."

* * *

Ooooh... I bet you guys weren't expecting THAT... ;) 

Review, please! Feel free to tell me what you'd like to see. Who knows, I might get inspired by one of your ideas and write it in. XD


	4. Chapter 4

IY: Well, I'm not feeling particularly witty today, so we'll go straight to the chapter.

Kit: Yup!

* * *

Thanks to: **kateg123**, -**x-Bashli-x-** (I'm glad you approve!), **random-laughter**,** Jealosy**, **Akkalia** (LOL), **Limit** (Thank you. I try. XD), **Airlady**, **Darkspider** (I've nixed the idea of a review quota. Thanks for your input and the sundae!), **Katsy16**, **wonky** (But strays are cute... XD), and **red eyed dragon**.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! Or anything else you might find familiar...** -wink-

* * *

Stonewall Secondary: Chapter FOUR

* * *

Ron gasped, "Harry! You can't let Sirius' money go to them!" 

Harry snarled, "I know that! I would _never_ let anything of Sirius' go to the family that hated him, especially not to his _murderer_!"

Draco made a noise of disagreement, but settled down when Harry shot him a death glare.

Goldcain coughed, "Well then, let's discuss what you want to do with the inheritance."

Harry nodded stiffly, sitting back down in the man-eating chair.

"Would it be possible to give it all to Remus Lupin?" he asked, not wanting to keep Sirius' money when it was _his_ fault Sirius was dead in the first place.

"I'm afraid not. Wizarding law states that werewolves, among many other magical creatures, cannot inherit anything from wizards or witches," Goldcain said regretfully.

Harry frowned. "Would it be possible to give him a key to the vault? That way it would still be mine, but he could withdraw money as well…"

"Hmm… That is certainly possible, Mr. Potter. Do you want me to arrange that for you?"

The green-eyed teen nodded. "Yes, please… Er, was that everything? We have to get going soon…"

The old goblin nodded. "All you need to do now is sign a few documents so that all of Mr. Black's assets can be transferred to your name."

Goldcain snapped his fingers, making several rolls of parchment appear out of thin air. With yet another snap, the rolls unfurled and each displayed a big, red 'X'.

Harry grabbed one of the ever-lasting quills that were placed on Goldcain's desk, then proceeded to sign his name wherever he saw the prompting 'X'.

Once he finished, Goldcain leaned forward. "That was all that needed your immediate attention, Mr. Potter. However, I understand that you were inquiring as to your vault's holdings?"

Harry blinked, "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot…"

"Well, I could tell you now if you still want to know," the old goblin said.

Harry nodded, causing Goldcain to snap his fingers. "Let's see," he said, unfurling the parchment that appeared, "You have your trust fund and the Potter family vaults under your control."

Harry's head snapped up. What? Since when did he have more than one vault?

"In your trust fund, there are: 3, 256 galleons, 1, 809 sickles, and 931 knuts. In the combined Potter vaults, there are: 26, 705 galleons, 15, 492 sickles, and no knuts. Your great uncle was allergic to copper and demanded that all knuts be converted to other currency."

Harry's head swam. "I… I have that much money?" he asked weakly.

"Damn, mate, you're rich!" Ron said, a tinge of jealousy clearly audible.

"Er, yeah… I guess I am…" the green-eyed Gryffindor replied.

Goldcain cleared his throat. "Would you like to do anything with your money, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Do you have any debit cards? I've always wanted one of those!"

"Yes, we do, Mr. Potter. Would you like the Wizarding card or the Muggle one?"

"Can I have both?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. That is a simple process," Goldcain said, snapping his fingers.

Two rolls of parchment appeared, each accompanied with a small plastic card. "These are spelled with various anti-theft charms, preventing them from being stolen."

Harry grinned, "That's great!"

If the Dursleys ever found out about them, they wouldn't be able to take them away!

The goblin nodded, "All you have to do is sign these."

Harry eagerly complied, signing with a flourish.

Goldcain stood, "Well, Mr. Potter, it was nice meeting you. I hope we can see each other again soon."

Harry nodded, shaking the hand that was held out to him. "Sure thing, Mr. Goldcain."

Harry led the others out of the goblin's office and then out of the bank, skipping happily.

"Well, someone is certainly cheerful today," Blaise said, watching as Harry headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, almost bowling over the people in his way.

"Hmm. Yes, you'd think he'd never had money before, the way he's acting," Draco drawled.

"That's because he hasn't," Ron stated simply.

The Gryffindor noticed their disbelieving stares. "What? He really hasn't! He's always lived with those horrible Dursleys, and they've never spent more on him than they absolutely had to."

Draco tilted his head. "Yes, he did mention having to do menial labor ever since he was small the other day… It's not so far-fetched to think that he's never had money at his disposal after that…"

Blaise and Ron looked at him strangely.

"Since when do _you_ have heart-to-hearts with Potter, Drake?" Blaise asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's not that big a deal, Blaise. I just asked him why he knew how to do servant work…"

Ron sighed, "For a moment there, I thought you'd actually turned over a new leaf and willingly talked with a Gryffindor…" He shook his head, sending red strands flying. "I guess that was way too much to ask for…"

* * *

"So, you guys want to go eat?" Harry asked as they all walked away from Mrs. Figg's house, heading out to do their shopping. 

"We haven't eaten all day. What do _you _think, Potter?" Draco sneered.

"I guess that was the equivalent of: I'm famished, Harry. Please feed me! in Malfoy speak."

Ron sniggered, "It sounded that way to me, mate!"

"Ha, bloody ha, Weasel. Your hilarity kills me."

Blaise rolled his toffee-colored eyes. "What are we going to eat, Harry?"

Harry paused at a street corner, waiting for the little green man to appear. "Well… Have you ever been to McDonald's?"

* * *

"Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?" the blond-haired young man behind the counter asked. 

"Er, yeah. Hold on a sec," Harry said, turning to his companions. "Okay, guys. This is how it works: you see those pictures?" They nodded. "Okay, choose whichever one looks best."

Turning back to the confused employee, Harry smiled. "Er, they're not from around here…"

The young man nodded. "Gotcha. So, are _you _ready to order?" he asked, winking.

"Er, uh, yeah," Harry stammered. What was with that wink?! "Uh, I'll have a Big Mac, no onions, please."

"No prob, cutie," the blond said, pushing buttons on the cash register.

Harry's face flamed. Was this guy _flirting_ with him?

He shook his head and looked to the others. "So, what did you guys decide?"

"Eh, I'll have a number… three?" Ron said, sounding unsure.

"Okay, and what will you two have?" the blond employee asked.

Draco glared at him. "I'll have a number six."

The blond nodded and turned to Blaise. "And you, buddy?"

The brunette Slytherin shuddered at being called 'buddy' by a Muggle commoner. "I'll have a number four, thanks, _buddy_."

"Okay, so that's a… number one, three, four and six?" he asked, reading from the display.

"Er, yeah. I think so," Harry replied.

"That'll be $21.93." (This is in dollars 'cause I'm too lazy to convert.)

Harry nodded and dug out his wallet. His first purchase with his new debit card!

He handed it to the employee, who swiped it through the machine. The receipt was spewed out, and the blond handed it to Harry, along with a pen.

Harry signed his name quickly, then handed them both back.

The blond smiled and handed him the copy of the receipt. "Here you go. Your order is number 261. Oh, and by the way, my name's Michael."

Harry smiled nervously, blushing horribly. "Er, nice to meet you, Michael."

Michael winked, "The pleasure's all mine."

Harry laughed weakly, then booked it away from there as fast as possible.

Ron and the Slytherins followed behind, the red-head laughing manically. "Hey, Harry, I think you've got yourself a boyfriend!"

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry hissed, sliding into a booth and hiding his face in his hands. "Oh my god, that was _so_ embarrassing…"

Ron slid in next to him, the Slytherins sitting across from them. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it, mate. It's not that big a deal. You _do_ look kind of girlish…"

Blaise and Draco snickered.

"What?" Harry asked, horrified. "I do not!"

"Yes, you _do_, Boy - or, should I say, Girl? - Wonder. You're short; skinny; have big, innocent green eyes; and your hair has gotten longer," Draco said, reaching across the table to finger Harry's bangs.

Blaise turned to scrutinize his friend. It seemed that Draco had mulled this over for quite a bit; enough to make it sound like a sure fact.

"Maybe I should shave it off?" Harry whimpered.

"Nah, you know it just grows back. Besides, it looks better like this," Ron said breezily.

"That's easy for _you_ to say, Ron. You're not the one being hit on by guys."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, that's true. Thank God for making me unmistakably male."

Draco snorted. "Just because you're a giant freak doesn't make you 'unmistakably male,' Weasel."

He'd always been a little _iffy _on the fact that the red-head was three inches taller than his own stature of 5'11.

The inevitable confrontation was stalled by Michael's voice calling over the intercom, "Number 261, your order's ready."

"Er, that's us, guys. Let's go."

"Yeah, before these two idiots decide to level the place," Blaise said dryly.

Harry laughed. Blaise wasn't so bad… For a Slytherin.

Reaching the counter, they waited until Michael was done with another customer's order.

"Okay, here's your food. Enjoy," Michael said, handing the tray to Ron. "And here's your cups," the blond said, holding them out to Harry.

Harry reached for them, but Michael didn't let go. "Uh, I was wondering… Are you free tonight?"

Harry blushed. "Er, um, you _do_ know I'm a guy, right?"

Michael winked. "Of course I do, Harry Potter."

The green-eyed teen was thrown for a loop. "How do you know my name?"

"I read it off of your receipt." Michael grinned in a self-satisfied way. "So, what do you say?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"He's free! And he'd love to go out with you, right mate?" Ron said, elbowing him in the side.

"Er, sure?" Harry replied hesitantly.

"Great!" Michael beamed. "Are the movies okay?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay, so where should I pick you up?"

Harry's eyes widened. The Dursleys wouldn't let him go out on a date with a guy! Heck, they probably wouldn't let him date at all!

"Er, why don't I meet you there? I live close by; I can walk."

Michael frowned. "Well, if you're sure…" Harry nodded. "Then how about we meet there for the nine o'clock screenings?"

"That's fine. I'll see you at nine, Michael." Harry took the cups and walked off, leading the other wizards to the coke dispenser.

"Hey, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah?"

"What are 'the movies?'"

* * *

Chapter four: complete! 

And now, my dear readers, a question:

What should happen in chapter 5? I can't decide, so I'll leave it up to you guys! You have two choices:

1. Harry goes on the date. It won't go over the whole thing, of course, just the preparations and the end... And it would have a _teensy tiny_ little Draco-Harry moment at the end. XD

2. Remember, it's barely Friday in this chapter, and the fic started on a Tuesday... There are more than THREE WEEKS left before they even start school! With that in mind, this option **skips forward** a few days. They will be shopping. At the mall. Purebloods. Shopping. In a mall full of Muggles. Doesn't _that_ sound like fun? XD

Oh, and if you were gonna choose option one just because of the Drarry moment... **Don't**. Option two will have one as well. XD


	5. Chapter 5

IY: Don't have much time. I'm stealing wireless Internet... -guilty look-

Kit: Criminal...

* * *

Thanks to: **Akkalia, Someone, Alissiana, Shame Ness2, Midnight Suburbia** (hope you had a good time)**, red eyed dragon, Darkspider** (sorry, majority rules...)**, Airlady, Dezra **(no bottom!Draco here, sorry. I hope you keep reading anyway!)**, sasuke-luvs-naruto, Aella-Bay, digi-writer1392, cyiusblack, Slasherific, -x-Bashli-x-, random-laughter, **and **kateg123**

* * *

**Most of you chose option three **(which you made up yourselves, I might add XD)**, which includes a date with Michael this chapter and the timeskip mall scene the next. ...You guys make me work too hard. XD**

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or **anything else** that you might recognize!

* * *

Stonewall Secondary: Chapter FIVE

* * *

"So, uh… How do I look?" Harry asked, giving a slow twirl for Ron's benefit. 

"You… You look _good_, mate!"

"There's really no need for you to sound so surprised, Ronald," Harry replied dryly.

He glanced down at his current attire: black jeans, fitted green t-shirt, and black Vans. They were all new, bought with his new-found wealth, since the nicest articles of clothing he'd owned before were his Hogwarts uniforms (and he couldn't very well go prancing around in _those,_ now could he?).

"Hmm… Are you sure? I don't want to look stupid; it's the first time I've ever gone on a date!"

"Not surprising," Draco drawled, "Considering the clothes you usually walk around in… You _do _know they all make you look like a colorblind, fashion-deprived _fool_, right?"

Blaise winced, "Ouch, Drake. You could've _eased _him into awareness of his obvious lack of fashion sense."

Harry scowled at them. "Hey! It's not like I _wanted_ to wear those rags. I didn't have a choice in the matter!"

"How could you not have a choice in what you wear, Potter?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes. "_You're_ the one wearing them."

"Yes, but I've never actually _bought_ my own clothes before. Today was the first time I've ever set foot in a department store."

Blaise raised both of his eyebrows. "Really, now? I guess you really _were_ deprived, then."

Harry glanced at Ron, "What have you been telling them?"

The red-head shook his head, "I didn't tell them anything! _You_'rethe one who went blabbing to Malfoy."

Harry's forehead scrunched up in thought. "Hmm… I guess I did. How stupid of me…"

The blond in their company frowned. "Hey! I am perfectly discreet! …When I want to be, that is," he added, snickering.

Green eyes narrowed. "Well, whatever. I've got to get going; it's almost eight and the cinema isn't that close."

"You told that Michael guy it was!" Ron cried, eyes narrowing in concern. "Will you be okay walking all the way there on your own?"

Harry laughed. "Don't worry, Ron. I can walk perfectly fine by myself."

He grabbed his matching black jean jacket and headed for the door.

"I'll see you guys later, okay?"

Harry closed the door to the house, only to turn back and open it again a second later.

"Try not to wreck Mrs. Figg's home," he added, sticking his head back in. His words were almost-but-not-quite a plead.

Draco and Blaise glanced at each other.

"We'll see what we can do," Draco promised, smirking.

* * *

"Harry!" 

The future savior of the Wizarding World jumped, startled out of his perusal of his new sneakers.

"Oh, Michael! Er, uh, hi." Harry blushed, not sure of what he should be saying. A greeting was safe, though, right?

"Hey, Harry!" The blond stopped about a foot away, giving him a once-over. He whistled, clearly impressed. "Wow, you sure do clean up nice."

"Er, th-thanks…" Harry stammered out, glancing up from his shoes. He quickly swept his gaze over his date's tall form. "Uh, y-you look good too."

Michael smiled rakishly. "I should. I spent about an hour trying to pick out a decent outfit."

Harry blushed. He'd spent that much time trying to look nice for their date?

Michael winked. "How 'bout we go buy the tickets?"

"Oh, right. Sure. Lead the way."

Harry followed timidly behind the blond as he weaved through the loitering crowd of teens towards the ticket booth.

"So, which movie do you wanna see, Harry?" Michael asked him, grabbing his elbow.

Harry was flustered, but when he looked at his date he found the blond gazing intently at the small movie ads above the booth. They had a few minutes to decide since there were a few couples ahead of them in line.

"Er, uh, I dunno. But it has to be PG-13, at most, because I'm not seventeen yet…" Harry turned away, trailing off sheepishly.

Michael grinned, "No, it's cool. I just turned seventeen about three months ago, in May. I know where you're coming from."

The blond turned back to the ads. "Okay, PG-13... There's Nancy Drew, Evan Almighty, and that one with the bugs…" He made a face, "Let's not see that one. Bugs and I don't really get along…"

Harry laughed. "Okay, that's fine. Hmm… I don't really feel like watching a girl solve mysteries today… So, how about Evan Almighty?"

"That's a good choice, Mr. Potter! Hold on, I'll get 'em." He turned to the attendant. "Two for Evan Almighty, please."

"Sure thing. It'll be $12.50, sir." (USD)

Michael whipped out his wallet, paid, received the tickets, and then led Harry away by his elbow.

"Er, I could've paid for my ticket, you know. You didn't have to pay for me…" The green-eyed teen was blushing horribly as he said this. It seemed he couldn't do anything else recently…

"Nonsense!" Michael replied, waving his free hand as if to dismiss the notion. "_I_ invited _you_, so I'm the one who has to pay!"

He led the Gryffindor over to a bench. "Now, do you want butter on your popcorn?"

Harry blinked.

* * *

"So, did you like it?" Michael asked, leading the smaller teen through the crowd exiting the theater by his elbow. 

"Yeah! You know, for a second there, I thought nothing was gonna happen. I kinda felt bad for the poor guy."

The blond smirked. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But it all worked out at the end, right? All in all, I thought it was a pretty good movie."

"Yup! I'm gonna have to bring the others to see it!" Harry said, smiling. He blinked, however, when a thought hit him. "Although they might not get it…"

"Where are they from, anyway?" Michael asked, tilting his head curiously. "I thought McDonald's was a worldwide enterprise. It's weird that they've never been there before."

"Oh, uh, they're from… out in the country! Yeah, they lived in, uh, pretty remote areas. They're here for the rest of the school year, since our school closed down."

Michael blinked. "How could you go to their school if they lived out in the country…?"

Harry ducked his head, wincing. He was so stupid! How was he gonna get out of _this_ one?

"Er, we went to boarding school together, in Scotland. Yeah, and since the school was closing, they decided to go to school here, er, with me."

"Huh," was all Michael said in reply, blinking rapidly. "So, uh, what school will you guys be going to?" he asked, changing the subject with a shake of his head.

"We're going to Stonewall Secondary. We'll be juniors (or is it grade 11 over there?) this year."

"Really? That's great! I go there too! I'll be a senior (grade 12?) this year, so I'll get to boss you around." Michael said, winking.

Harry laughed nervously. "You're kidding, right?"

"Of course I am!" the blond said, laughing. When he sobered, he looked down at his watch. "Oh, man! It's already 11:23! C'mon, I'll drive you home. It's way too late for you to go walking."

"Oh, no, no! It's fine. I'll be fine! It's not that -"

Michael cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. "There is _no_ way I'm letting you walk around by yourself at midnight."

Harry sighed, slumping and nodding miserably.

"I knew you'd see it my way! Now c'mon, I need to make it home by one." Michael laughed sheepishly and put a hand behind his neck at Harry's questioning look. "I've still got a curfew…"

"Oh." Harry nodded understandingly and allowed himself to be led away again.

They stopped before a slightly dented red Neon. It had a few scrapes along the back fender, but other than that it looked well taken care of.

"That's from when I crashed with our mail box." Harry's disbelieving glance had Michael expanding his story. "Yeah, it's stupid… I'd just gotten my driver's license and I still had a bit of trouble reversing out of the driveway…"

Harry snorted, but managed to restrain the rest of his giggles.

"Oh, ha-ha. I don't see _you_ driving, Mr. Giggles. It's tougher than it looks!"

That set Harry off on another laughing binge. This time, Michael joined him.

"Okay, okay. Calm down now. Where do you want me to drop you off?"

Harry bit his lip. He couldn't get dropped off at the Dursleys' because when he turned back time he might accidentally see himself… Where could - Mrs. Figg's house! Harry felt like slapping himself.

"Er, I'm sleeping over at a friend's house, so I don't know the address. I'll just tell you where to turn."

"Okay. That's fine with me! Which way first?"

* * *

"So, uh… I, uh, I had… It was really… Er, I mean -" Harry stopped, blushing and looking down at the wood of the porch under his feet. Fidgeting slightly with the hem of his shirt, he took a deep breath and started again. 

"Er, what I meant to say was that I had a good time. Thanks."

Michael smiled and reached up to cup his chin. "No need to thank me. I had a great time too. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

Harry raised his gaze and smiled shyly. "Er, yeah. That would be fun."

The blond winked. "Mr. Potter, I promise that you'll never be bored around me! I'll give you a call sometime, 'kay? I gotta get going now, curfew and all…"

Harry nodded. "Okay. That's fine. Good night."

Michael laughed. "That's not how you say goodbye!" He stepped forward, planting a chaste kiss on the startled Gryffindor's lips. "Now _that_ is a proper farewell."

Winking, the blond turned and walked off the porch, heading to his car. Opening the door, he looked back towards the statuesque brunette. "Bye Harry!" Michael called, laughing, then drove off.

Harry blinked. _Well_. That was certainly interesting…

"So… Is it _customary_ for Muggles to return home at five past midnight on a first date?"

Harry jumped a mile. "Malfoy! Don't scare me like that!" he said, spinning to face the former Prince of Slytherin.

"What are you doing up, anyway?"

Draco shrugged casually. "Couldn't sleep. I thought I'd watch a bit of television until I got tired… Lucky I did, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to witness you stuttering like that pathetic loser Longbottom."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry said, scowling angrily, hoping Malfoy would mistake his blush for rage instead of the embarrassment it really was.

Judging from the smirk on the blond's face, Harry could tell he was out of luck.

"You didn't answer me, Potter," Draco reminded him.

"What? Oh, right. I don't know, actually… Maybe? A lot of people were still at the movies when we left…"

Draco sniffed haughtily. "I don't think it's proper for you to be out so late. With a stranger, no less."

Harry smiled teasingly. "Aw, were you jealous? Don't worry, Drakey-poo. You're the only blond for me!"

Harry laughed at the great fish impersonation the Slytherin was currently doing.

"Just kidding, Malfoy! Anyway, I've got to go now; it's getting late," he said to the still dumbfounded blond, starting to walk away. Once he reached the sidewalk, he gave his school-yard rival a jaunty wave. "See you tomorrow!"

The blond was left standing alone on Mrs. Figg's front porch. "What just happened...?"

* * *

Chapter five: complete! 

So? Did you like? Mall scene coming up next! Are you guys excited? I am! I'm going to the mall for inspiration! (...That's a lie. I just wanna shop. LOL)


	6. Chapter 6

IY: I'm really sorry guys, but this is not a chapter.

First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long. I have a job now, and I'm usually really tired.

Even so, I've written the mall scene but I'm having second doubts about putting it up quite yet. Here's my reason why:

(Written by _asphodel ale_)

Ouch! You hit one of my pet peeves--movies and other media that weren't around at the time the story was set. Granted, this is AU, but you did say only 6th year AU, right? So that would have set 5th year in 1995-96, and 6th in 1996-97.

It wouldn't take much research to find a few movies that were actually playing that year.

Likewise, there are online currency converters that could easily switch dollars to pounds, thus eliminating that rather jarring line at the theater. (Alternatively, one can write the scene without specifying actual amounts, ie: "The ticket agent asked for the money, and Michael said he'd pay.")

BTW, while it is your choice to write a love interest, the main story line really doesn't need it. Though Harry and Draco's conversation after Harry's date was cute. (Also regarding 1996, same-sex relationships were much less visible than they are now, so it seems a bit odd that Harry would go out with a boy quite as quickly as he did. Especially considering Harry's rather young age.)

XxX

Okay, I _know_ what year this is supposed to take place. I'm a Harry Potter freak and I've got most of the books _memorized_.

However, I don't have an internet connection at the moment, so I have no way to look up anything.

I used _Evan Almighty_ since I'd seen it recently and my reactions to it were still fresh. I doubt I'd ever gone to the movies in 97, since I was what, six? Seven maybe?

And I thought introducing Michael would be cute, since I personally love jealous!Draco.

Still, I feel really bad about my rather obvious plot holes...

I have a problem with self-doubt, and I'd appreciate all of you guys' opinions on this matter.

Should I go back and fix things?

Please leave your answer.

I'll post up the next chapter and erase this note once I get some feedback!


End file.
